


let it melt a little (pop rocks, strawberry, bubblegum)

by chocchipkookie



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Boys in Skirts, Crush at First Sight, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Hair Dyeing, Hair Kink, Idols, M/M, Making Out, Massage, Mild Sexual Content, Pet Names, Pining, Sexual Tension, Short & Sweet, drummer yunho, hair stylist hongjoong, hair washing as a form of courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26571796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocchipkookie/pseuds/chocchipkookie
Summary: His hair is grown out, reaching his nape, styled to curl around his ears and bangs cut short just over his expressive eyebrows. Yunho notices that there's various tufts of hair colored in pastel shades of pink, orange, purple and blue.Hongjoong is going to be their personal hairstylist from now on, "I already have your sticker on my phone case!" he points to their crescent moon logo with a pale-blue painted finger and a radiant smile.(yunho is getting ready for his first comeback, and hongjoong is the band's new hair stylist)
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Kim Hongjoong
Comments: 27
Kudos: 210





	let it melt a little (pop rocks, strawberry, bubblegum)

**Author's Note:**

> well hello!! this is just a cute idea i wanted to write because i just couldn't stop thinking about hair stylist hongjoong! it's short and sweet and kind of spicy, so i really hope you enjoy this! as always, comments fuel me more than anything else in this world, so pls dont feel shy to share your thoughts/reactions below! i love reading them <3 :))

Yunho never expected to be _this_ busy two months after debuting — nothing feels _busier_ than his current predicament as he sits cross-legged on the floor of their practice room, shoving cold noodle soup in his mouth blindingly while going over the sheet music on his lap, all the while as Seonghwa massages the knots in his nape. He groans so loudly that a few strings of slippery noodles fall right back into the bowl from his mouth. "Always hunched over like this," his bandmate scolds him lovingly, "You should join Mingi during his pilates lessons." 

"I don't want to do pilates." 

"Then fix your posture, Yunho dear. You should be glad we're not a regular idol group…" at that, Yunho chuckles. He honestly cannot imagine himself being a part of those fellow neck-breaking dancing groups of all-rounders that spend hours rehearsing routines until their feet bleed. Yunho is very content with head-banging in sync with his drumming until his head feels like it'll fall off and the satisfying itch his palms get after he holds his drum-sticks for too long. 

He really should fix his posture, though. It's the endless nights he spends gaming with San that are at fault — after finally saving up to get a pc set up for their dorm, they've been monopolizing their time, gaming until the early hours of the morning. 

"Feels better?" Seonghwa speaks gently in his ear — he'd zoned out for a bit. 

"Mmm. Much better. Thank you, hyung…" he giggles when Seonghwa back hugs him, always the affectionate one. "What's our schedule for today?" 

"Styling!" San suddenly answers his question when he enters the room. He places his portable keyboard against the wall and slides across the slippery floor on his hip until he's close to them. "I heard they got permanent stylists for us." 

Seonghwa raises his brows, "Wow, that's. Quite cool, actually!" 

It's their first comeback ever, and their company is going all out regarding their concept and their promotions. Their initial success was only a small taste of what was to come, and that both excited and terrified Yunho. The realization that people, _living and breathing people_ , would listen to their songs and actually _enjoy_ them was something he still hasn't come to terms with. But there's other things, smaller, seemingly insignificant, that still make his head spin — like the fact that the newly debuted rock band _Crescent_ has a designated stylist team now. 

Mingi and Jongho arrive with coffees in hand after their break, their chatters and cackles echoing against the walls. The five of them get only a few minutes to catch up before their manager storms in with a parade of people following his footsteps. 

They greet their staff members and their manager gives out a bullet-point version of their schedule for the next two months, focusing on the important dates and the time between the album release and their appearances on music shows. Yunho tries to focus on every single word, he really does, but Seonghwa is better when things get technical and he can always lean on their leader if he forgets something. He looks around the room in an attempt to fight the incoming fatigue. 

Jongho would call it destiny and San would call it a happy coincidence, but Yunho experiences it more like a stomach drop when he realizes he's staring directly at someone's face when he's supposed to be zoning out. 

And that person is staring directly back at _him._

He's short but _prominent,_ and not just because of the colorful mop of hair on his head or the equally eccentric makeup around his eyes — Yunho has never met this person, but he's pretty sure if he were to see him bare-faced he'd still be stunned. The young man carries himself without an ounce of shame, oozing confidence and another quality that Yunho can't find a word to describe. Ethereal, perhaps. He sticks out, that's for sure; a splatter of vibrant watercolor paint on the blank canvas of fluorescent lights, meetings and schedules. 

Their manager has already began introducing the strangers to the rest of the group — an effortless, mellow _'Kim Hongjoong'_ rolls off the young man's lips that shine an iridescent cherry color. His hair is grown out, reaching his nape, styled to curl around his ears and bangs cut short just over his expressive eyebrows. Yunho notices that there's various tufts of hair colored in pastel shades of pink, orange, purple and blue. 

Hongjoong is going to be their personal hairstylist from now on, "I already have your sticker on my phone case!" he points to their crescent moon logo with a pale blue painted finger and a radiant smile. Next to him stands Yeosang, their makeup artist, and Wooyoung, their fashion stylist. "I hope our combined efforts will produce the best results." 

"Of course," Seonghwa says, "We're very thankful to be working with you!" 

♥

Discussing and explaining their music is something that's always troubled Yunho; he believes it's easier to play their tracks and let the stylists figure out the meanings for themselves, but the manager insists on them having a much more hands-on approach to the presentation of their work instead of simply letting others decide on their 'image'. Most of the songs for this EP were written during their trainee days, on buses and cars and train rides, lulled by the monotonous sound of the plain engines on their way to America and back. There's a distinct sensation of yearning in their sound, a call for something bigger and brighter that seems blurry as it appears in the horizon. 

The three men listen intently as the band explains, showering them with compliments that make all five of them blush profusely, "Feels retro, yet modern at the same time." Wooyoung mutters to himself as he scribbles in his notes. Both he and Hongjoong are taking notes, in fact, but Yeosang has chosen to stare intently at each member's face with an unreadable expression that can only provoke fear. 

"You'd look pretty in sparkles." he tells Seonghwa in a very professional tone that has the man in question stumble over his words. 

When the time comes for the aesthetic changes, Hongjoong presents all of them at least a few options to choose from. When it comes to Yunho's turn, he manages to take a sneak peak into Hongjoong's notes; random numbers that probably accord to hair colors, pictures of hairstyles he's considering for him and a few random scribbles that were probably done while he was talking on the phone. 

"There's some highlights already in your hair," he tells him. Hongjoong has vibrant yellow eyeshadow on today that reminds Yunho of tasty, runny eggs. His lashes curl upwards in a science-defying manner, and there's glitter on his lower lash line, pink and orange mixed together. "Yunho? Do you mind if I touch?" 

"Huh?" Yunho comes back to his very _professional_ hairstylist who's trying to do his job. 

Hongjoong's hand is raised just a few inches away from the light brown hair that curls around his ear, "Can I touch your hair, Yunho?" 

"Y-yes." 

Fingers thread through his hair gently as the stylist inspects it, and Yunho feels his ears getting red. Hongjoong's admittedly _beautiful,_ and being underneath his kind yet scrutinizing gaze is doing things to Yunho that he wishes he were alone to deal with. The pad of his thumb comes to rest on the side of Yunho's head, pressing into his scalp gently and — _oh._ Goosebumps rise across his spine at the feeling. How can such a small gesture provoke such a visceral reaction from him? 

It takes every bit of his self-restrain in him to keep his eyes open and not lean into the touch more — the stylist is there to do his job, after all. So he chooses to focus on Hongjoong, which doesn't prove to be any better, "Is there something on my face?" he asks, brows furrowed at Yunho's intense staring. 

"Ah, no!" Yunho stutters anxiously, "I was just, um, looking at your hair. It's very pretty." 

At that, Hongjoong's expression brightens up. His hand leaves Yunho's hair (much to his dismay) to play with his own colorful fringes, "Thank you! I did it myself when I was bored. It's silvery-white underneath, so the color will eventually wash out." 

"Looks like pastel rainbow cotton candy," Yunho comments before he can stop himself. 

But Hongjoong grins, "That's actually what I was aiming for! Say, Yunho, you've never bleached your hair before, right?" Yunho shakes his head, "Well, I talked it over with your manager, but ultimately it's your choice. I think you'd look super pretty with peachy pink hair." 

Yunho's eyebrows shoot up. If he's being honest with himself, he can't imagine having a hair color like that. It's not a bad idea, though. He figures that Hongjoong will take great care of his hair. "Um, sure—" 

"Great! I can't wait to work my magic on you!" Hongjoong chuckles, wiggling his fingers together. 

♥

Yunho is the last one booked to get his hair done, since bleaching his hair properly will take some time, as Hongjoong says. It's become a bit of a 'thing' in the past two weeks, for the three young men to keep the band company after their rehearsals. They share meals at the company building's cafeteria on the ground floor; they find out that, out of the three, Wooyoung's the loudest, always talking in between inhaling his food. Yeosang is seemingly quieter, but after a rather unfortunate game of UNO his true colors are revealed. And Hongjoong is just… 

"You're staring again~" Jongho sings, playfully strumming his guitar. "Either go talk to him or let him do his job and don't look at him like a hawk~" 

Yunho rubs his cheeks until they physically feel hotter. Gives them a small smack each for good measure. They're in the changing rooms and it's Seonghwa's turn to get his hair done. Yunho had watched as him and Hongjoong talked while the stylist coated his fluffy brown hair with a dark purplish dye, handling the brush and the comb interchangeably with skilled fingers, laughing quietly while staring at each other through the mirror. Then, after an adequate time passed and the color developed, Hongjoong took him to the bathroom sink and began washing it off, fingers buried in the deep blue sea of Seonghwa's hair. Their leader had closed his eyes and sighed at the sensation, like a cat purring over getting pets. 

Yunho has been sitting near them this whole time, scrolling on his phone suspiciously quickly to notice anything on his feed. Jongho is next to him, softly humming one of their new releases and playing the melody on his guitar, taking breaks by annoying him about his _'very obvious, completely obvious actually'_ crush on their hairstylist. 

It's not a secret that Yunho crushes on people quite easily. It's enough for someone to be kind and smile at him for him to feel that familiar pounding in his heart, so he's learnt to ignore his puppy-like, touch-starved reactions to anyone who does the bare minimum. Their group vividly remembers Yunho developing a crush on all of them when they first met as trainees; it had been quite an awkward situation, having to explain that that is just how he _is._ His feelings for them always lasted for about a week until he realized that it was just a mixture of excitement and being deprived of physical affection — group cuddles always solved that problem, nowadays. 

But it's been almost three weeks, and Yunho longs for the days Hongjoong shows up at their company, always dressed in something stylish that shows off his vibrant and creative personality. Whenever they bump into each other near the vending machine, the hairstylist will spark up a conversation, filling in Yunho's awkward pauses, asking him about his music process — because, as if everything else wasn't already enough for Yunho to fall for him, Hongjoong _loves_ music. He could stare at him gushing about his favorite artists for hours, mascara-coated lashes fluttering when he giggles. 

It doesn't seem like this feeling is escaping him any time soon. 

Back to the present, Seonghwa finally finishes getting his hair done so they can practice. He looks handsome, deep blue hues in his hair catching the light as he sings into the mic, dark brows framing his fierce gaze through the mirror. They go through the entirety of the EP, until Yunho's forehead is dripping with sweat from the intense head-banging as he plays the drums; he knows he's putting way more effort than usual in his expressions, but it's the only way he can ignore Hongjoong who sits cross-legged in the corner of the room, mouthing along to Mingi's rapping. 

Wooyoung finds him after they've wrapped up while he's taking mouthfuls of a refreshing energy drink. They haven't talked as much in private, mostly because he'd clicked quicker with San and also because the man walks around with a resting bitch face, for a lack of a better word, always sizing up everyone and analyzing their proportions in his head with machine-like calculations; at least that's how Yunho imagines the inside of Wooyoung's brain working like. 

Without a word, he grabs Yunho's hand and inspects it, "Painted nails," he says mystically, "Also, huge hands. Interesting." 

"Huh?" 

"The camera zooms in a lot on your hands when you play your solo parts," Wooyoung graciously explains, still holding onto his hand with both palms, "I've watched all of your performances from your debut, they do close-ups on your hands when you do tricks with your drum sticks. Painting your nails a pretty color will be a nice touch!" 

Hongjoong approaches them _bouncing,_ and Yunho's going to faint, "Wooyoungie's right, Yunho! You have lovely nails to begin with."

"I do?" Yunho looks at his hands. His palms are calloused, roughened with hours upon hours of practice. There's thin bandages wrapped around most of his long, bony fingers. Deep blue veins flex under his pale skin. He's never thought much about his hands, only that they do their job right. 

"I can paint them for you, I already do mine pretty well!" He gets an eyeful of Hongjoong showing off his hands. His fingers are a light pink color, and there's tiny stickers with cartoon characters on top of them. 

"Cute…" 

♥

Yunho has to admit to his desperation when he memorizes Hongjoong's drink order and buys it for him on his way to practice. The stylists haven't arrived yet, so he shamefully keeps it next to his iced coffee and hopes no one notices. 

San keeps playing with his newly styled haircut — a combination of a side shave and an undercut, his raven black hair swept to the side, deep in conversation with Seonghwa and Mingi, whose hair is now all fluffy, light brown curls. Yunho pays them no mind at first as he unwraps his lunch. He's ready to take a bite, when he suddenly hears Mingi going, "His hands feel like heaven, I almost fell asleep on that chair…" 

San sighs, "When he started doing that massage thing I got chills—" and his eyes roll back as he says that. 

"Um, what are we talking about?" Yunho asks, mouth full. 

"How Hongjoong has the best hands in the world," Mingi says casually, and Yunho almost spits his food out, "You'll see when your turn comes. That dude's hands are magic." 

"Huh." 

"Yeah, he just does that thing," Seonghwa explains vaguely, pushing the sides of his temples with his fingers, mimicking an expression that can only be described as pornographic, "I swear it's so relaxing—" 

"I think it's my turn to get my hair done today—" Yunho clears his throat, but a hand on his shoulder halts him from getting up. 

"Ah-ah, I'm afraid that's me," Jongho announces happily, a teasing smile on his face, "Sorry, Yunho, but you'll have to wait until the day after tomorrow." 

Hongjoong has to rush today so Yunho can't talk to him as much as he wants to (hint: he could listen to Hongjoong talk all day, watch his eyes light up like stars while he moves his hands theatrically whenever he explains something), but Yunho clenches his fist and gets up from his seat without much thought when he sees him passing by, rushing to tap on his shoulder. 

"Hi. I um, I got you some coffee," he presents the cup to Hongjoong, whose mouth opens wide in surprise. 

"Yunho! Thank you so much!" Hongjoong says. Someone calls him from the end of the corridor and he whips his head around, a rushed "Coming!" from his lips. He grabs onto Yunho's extended arm to hoist himself up on his tip-toes and presses a hasty, loud kiss on his cheek, so quick it could have easily been a dream. 

But it's _real,_ because Yunho clenches his hand around the plastic cup in reaction and shakes the coffee around, almost spilling it. Hongjoong smiles at him, and Yunho could be just imagining things, but there's something in them, something different, swimming in a sea of green shimmer and black eyeliner. The coffee is taken from his grip and he watches as the stylist rushes to the bathroom, the platforms of his shoes skipping on the ground. 

His hand that was holding the plastic cup now feels cool against the scorching skin of his cheek, right over where Hongjoong's lips kissed him. 

♥

Finally, _finally,_ Jongho's hair is a warm, chestnut brown color and it's Yunho's turn to get a makeover. 

On the same day, a rainy Tuesday afternoon, Hongjoong shows up in a skirt. 

It's a pleated, purple-pink checkered pattern, with black and blue stripes, and it swishes as he walks, and Yunho _has_ to stop staring, it's getting extremely obvious, but he can't help it, with how toned but also _soft_ Hongjoong's legs look. 

As if he knows his effect on him, the stylist wiggles his hips so that the pleats move around, "D'you like it? I borrowed it from Yeosangie, he has so many it's impossible to count them all!" 

"Mm, it's really nice," is all Yunho can manage, mouth dry no matter how hard he swallows. He wishes he could shower Hongjoong with compliments without sounding weird or cringey, but he doesn't trust himself enough for that so he chooses to remain brief. "Y-you should wear them more often, they look great on you." 

Once rehearsals are over, Hongjoong drags him to the bathrooms and lets him sit on the chair, wrapping a protective jacket around his shoulders. He puts on a playlist from his phone and lets it sit near the sink while he combs through Yunho's hair. He hopes the stylist can't tell how nervous he is. 

"Why are you nervous, Yunho?" 

_Well._

"I-I'm not." 

"You're shaking your leg." 

"Helps me concentrate." At that Hongjoong grabs one of his hands that has been holding onto the chair, "Hey—" 

"Your palms are clammy," the hairstylist states, "Don't be scared, Yunho. I'll take good care of your hair so that it looks pretty and doesn't get too damaged from the bleach. You can count on me, I know what I'm doing." Hongjoong winks at him through the mirror. 

"I know, I trust you," Yunho admits, "Everyone's hair turned out amazing." 

A comfortable silence falls between them. Hongjoong sometimes mutters the lyrics of the songs that come on shuffle that he particularly likes, and Yunho sighs, managing to relax. He watches through the mirror as the young man coats his hair in sections, a focused look on his face, "You matched your eye makeup with your skirt…" Yunho murmurs when he notices the similarity between the pleated skirt and the hot pink eyeliner that covers most of Hongjoong's lids. 

Hongjoong smiles in satisfaction, "Yeosangie did it for me," he admits. "It's his expertise anyways. I'm not that precise when it comes to makeup," he gestures to the impeccably drawn sharp points of his eyeliner near the ends of his brows. "But I like it when I'm color coordinated!" his giggle makes Yunho _swoon._

Some time passes and Yunho winces at how much he wants to itch his scalp, although Hongjoong assures him that bleach tends to have that effect. He's amazed at how his hair is slowly losing its brown color, turning into a cool yellow underneath the white specs of the leftover mixture. Finally, after what seems like hours, Hongjoong gets out a few different bottles from his bag and turns Yunho's chair so that he can lean his nape near the sink. 

Is it weird that Yunho's feeling kind of nauseous right now? Probably. It's his fellow members' fault, _it's all their fault,_ for making him feel this nervous about Hongjoong doing his job. He clenches his teeth and closes his eyes, hoping that he doesn't embarrass himself. 

The water feels so soothing onto his bleached scalp. He can feel Hongjoong taking palmfuls of it and letting it drip over his head from his hairline, wetting the crown and the ends with gentle hands. The sound of the water running also sounds pleasant, almost lulling him to sleep. The stylist begins talking to him in a soft voice, explaining in technical detail how the specific shampoos he's going to use will strengthen his hair and make it feel soft and moisturized. Yunho hums, eyebrows curling up when Hongjoong finally squeezes something onto his hands and begins massaging it into his scalp. 

_Oh._

It feels _heavenly._

Goosebumps appear all across Yunho's spine. He feels the hair on his arms standing up, because this feeling is so inexplicably _blissful._ The pads of Hongjoong's fingers work into his skin, spreading the aromatic, foamy mixture around in circular motions, as if taking away any possible tension Yunho could have had. He pushes his thumbs across the crown of his head, down to his nape, then circles them around the sides, behind his ears, and brings them back again across his hairline, gingerly tapping across his forehead. He repeats that motion again and again, in between palmfuls of cool water that only make Yunho squirm more. 

He can't help but bite the inside of his lip, or else he'll make a sound. It feels so good, so soothing and mind-numbingly amazing, unlike anything he's ever felt before. Yunho can't figure out if it's just because he's generally touch-starved or if he has a fetish for getting his hair played with and his head massaged. Whatever the case is, he tries not to dwell on it too much, in case he— 

His cock twitches in his pants, swelling up as Hongjoong continues to rinse out the foam. Fuck. 

Yunho carefully closes his legs tighter, hoping it's enough to hide his boner. 

Hongjoong squeezes out another bottle into his palms and begins all over again, using both hands to massage the foam into each side of Yunho's temples. The drummer can feel his minty breath near him, but he refuses to open his eyes, because if he does, then he'll have to look into Hongjoong's pretty gaze, the slope of his pointy, cute nose, the pout of his lips—

Hongjoong massages across his scalp again, and Yunho lets out a loud, drawn-out, breathy moan from deep within his belly. 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_

He opens his eyes in a frenzy, panicked and _mortified_ at what he just did. Hongjoong hasn't taken his hands away from his head, but he's stopping moving them. There's an unreadable expression on his face, and it only makes Yunho feel _worse._ "I'm—" 

Hongjoong's silent. Yunho doesn't know if he's waiting for him to finish so he can slap him across the face or if he's debating throwing him out with shampoo still in his hair. 

"I take it you liked that," he finally says. 

_Yunho wouldn't mind perishing right about now._

"Hongjoong—" 

A weird, almost smug expression appears on Hongjoong's face, "You don't have to explain yourself, I know I'm really good at what I do. Although, I've never had a client _moan_ like that on me before—" 

"I think I should go—" Yunho scrambles to get up from his chair, shampoo and water dripping down his face. This is so incredibly embarrassing that he wants the earth to swallow him whole, and he doesn't mind running down the corridor of the company's building with bleached hair and leftover foam if it means not being in the same room with Hongjoong after what just happened. 

Before he can even take two steps towards the door, Hongjoong runs in front of him and gently pushes on his chest, "Hey, hey, it's fine—" they walk backwards until Yunho's sat again on the chair, only this time, Hongjoong _climbs onto his lap,_ hands still settled on his pecs; probably so that Yunho doesn't try to run away again. "It's fine, please don't feel bad," the hairstylist reassures him. He brings a towel to wipe some of the dripping water around Yunho's face. 

"This is so embarrassing…" Yunho can't help but whine, wanting to hide his face in his hands. Hongjoong's weight feels wonderful on his lap, however, soft and warm, and his brain is finding it a bit difficult to focus on one particular thing right now. 

"'S not." 

"Yes it is." 

"Yunho," Hongjoong sighs. He places his hand on Yunho's chin, gently turning his head up so that their eyes meet, "You've surely realized that… that I…" he breathes out and leans closer, and Yunho can smell his minty breath again and the watermelon scent of his lip balm, noses so close they're almost bumping into each other. 

"This…" Yunho breathes out, carefully letting his arms wrap around his waist; it feels so delicate and small underneath his palms, and he wants to feel and squeeze until Hongjoong whimpers in his lap, until his pretty makeup gets ruined and smudged. The small distance between their lips feels electric, buzzing with anticipation, a ticking time bomb ready to explode. 

Eyes heavy with desire, Hongjoong guides one of Yunho's hands away from his waist, guiding it across the pleats of his skirt until it reaches the hem of it and his soft, bare thigh, pushing it underneath the garment until his big palm meets the smooth curve of his ass and a tight, lacy strip of fabric. 

His heart feels ready to jump out of his chest as he squeezes and Hongjoong whines desperately, pushing his smaller body into Yunho's embrace and finally, _finally_ kissing him. 

It's noisy and messy — the moment Yunho finally gets to touch, he cannot stop squeezing and feeling the other man up. He holds him tight, tummy fluttering at the way Hongjoong clings onto him, thighs trembling around his own and one hand wrapped around his neck for leverage while the other keeps squeezing around his pectoral whenever Yunho sucks his bottom lip in between his, shyly letting his tongue lick into the plump softness of those perfect, pouty lips. At one point, Yunho lets his other hand fit around his right asscheek and Hongjoong giggles at the feeling, pushing against him until his hardness is visible under his skirt, "Y-yunho, mmm…" he whimpers when he pulls away to take a deep breath. 

His eyes look unfocused and hazy — he looks every bit ruined, from his blushing cheekbones to his eyes to the beautiful rainbow that is his hair and Yunho feels like he's floating, like he wouldn't be able to trust his legs to help him walk with how overwhelming this is. He wouldn't want to get up, anyway — if Hongjoong wants to sit on his lap for the rest of eternity, he's welcome to do so. 

A drop of shampoo dribbles down the bridge of Yunho's nose, and _that_ makes Hongjoong come back to reality again, "Fuck, I need to wash the toner out of your hair—" 

"N-no, don't get up—" Yunho whines, holding onto his waist so that Hongjoong stays on his lap. "H-hongjoong, please…" 

"I'm not going anywhere," Hongjoong assures him, sensing the staggering mixture of emotions Yunho is experiencing right now, "I need to rinse your hair out, baby." 

Yunho's head is full of _baby baby baby_ so he doesn't realize that Hongjoong has gotten off of his lap until most of the toner is rinsed out. The water is cool but Hongjoong's touch is sweltering while he takes care of his hair; as much as the hairstylist tries to act professional, the smudged redness around his lips is hard to ignore. 

Finally, Hongjoong takes a towel and carefully wraps it around his head, patting the sides and the top so that most of the water gets out without damaging his hair. Shyly, he gets back up on Yunho's lap — it's not as heated as before, but it's tense nevertheless. The towel falls around his shoulders after a few minutes of drying his hair so he finally musters up the courage and looks directly in Hongjoong's eyes, hands sneaking around his waist to hold him close. 

It feels so _right,_ holding him close like this. "Hongjoong, I… I like you. I really like you. Like, so, so much." 

He gets two soft palms cupping his cheeks and pushing his lips into a pout that Hongjoong pecks in the softest manner possible, "I really like you, too. I wish I could have been, um. More obvious. But also more _professional."_

Yunho huffs, giggling, "I think we're way past professionalism right now." He doesn't exactly know where they are, or what they are, or what will happen once they're out of this safe haven inside this bathroom that smells of shampoo and bubbles. All he can care for, however, is how Hongjoong feels against him. And he feels perfect. 

"Blond suits you," the young man tells him, playing with the wet curls that fall in front of his forehead. 

Yunho hasn't seen himself in the mirror yet, but he doesn't care. Honestly, he doesn't want to stare at anything that isn't Hongjoong or a part of Hongjoong right now. "But you said you'd make me pink… pink like you." Yunho leans in to capture his lips into a kiss again, short and sweet. 

"Hmm… so I'm pink?" Hongjoong asks, tongue poking between his sharp, bright teeth. 

Fuck, Yunho wants to kiss him again. How is he supposed to get anything done while also kissing Hongjoong? He'll have to think of a solution for that. Or multitask. "You're pink. And blue. And purple and orange and yellow and gray…" he giggles, listing off the colors that he can spot on Hongjoong's mullet. "You're _Hongjoong."_ he says, because he cannot find another word to best describe what he's feeling right now. The young man curses under his breath and dives in again for a kiss, holding onto his cheeks as they make out, languidly and lazily. 

The dye will have to wait — Yunho is already preoccupied with a different sort of _pink_ at the moment, he thinks as sneaks his hands under the pleated skirt again. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter and curiouscat as @milkytae12 and talk to me about ateez, fics and everything else in between! ily ♡♡♡ :3c !!!


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